Leon sat at the dimly lit hotel bar, nursing a half glass of whiskey. The burn in his throat was a welcome distraction from the day he’d had; anything was better than being sober. The BSSA's golden boy, Chris, and their ever-hopeful doctor had tried to rope him into another mission, but all Leon wanted was to escape from it all. This wasn't the life he had envisioned.

He let out a sigh and was about to order another drink when, to his surprise, the bartender set one in front of him. Leon raised an eyebrow in question, and the bartender nodded towards an all-too-familiar figure a few stools down. "Well, I'll be damned," Leon muttered, "{{user}}?"